


blue truth

by Elisye



Series: outside of the golden land [2]
Category: Clockwork (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, mage!Christian, wow im actually writing something that's not in chris' pov wwwww
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-01 22:07:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5222708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisye/pseuds/Elisye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are four pieces of evidence, but nothing to deny them in red.</p>
            </blockquote>





	blue truth

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> okie so im just writing small stuff because I liked this idea from that skype chat along with the others like !! wowwies  
> also this has been sitting in my drafts for like a month so I should really get it out while it's still in existence ww

### i.

You noticed it when you were younger - Christian, and his pathological interest in the well-being of others.

He would shadow just about anyone he cared for, always fretting over their health, distracted from his studies and play with just one word of doubt. You remember your curiosity being heavily piqued by it, as everything in this world has a cause-effect relationship, and there had to be something behind this instance too.

You were so intrigued, you never noticed how Christian himself fared - how _well_ he fared, despite some daredevil things he'd done, all in the name of helping others. (Mostly baby birds, you heard.) Despite some mishaps and accidents, scraped knees and bruised arms, a limb broken at least once or twice—he always recovered to peak perfection. Sometimes too quickly, at that.

Like magic.

.

### ii.

"—Magic isn't real," Esther grumbled, sketching numbers into her notebook. Math wasn't her best subject, with disinterest furthering it.

"But history documents it quite clearly, Esther," Christian replied, his tone gentle but not cheerful. After all, the subject itself was taboo in any society - it's Man's cursed weapon and ailment. "Unless you're talking about hand tricks?"

"I'm talking about real magic, Chris."

The girl rolled her eyes, flipping the pages. They're half blank, half scribbled in - all numbers, as fractions or decimals. You could just see the boredom wash over her anew as she glanced through them.

"Well, why don't you think it's real?"

"Because." She shrugged. 

"That's not a good excuse."

"It is." Esther shot him a slightly withering look. "Like, seriously - think about it. No one uses it any more! It's outlawed, yes, but that's just that. Also, I've heard that magic users who get caught end up executed. You might as well say they're extinct, almost."

"Doesn't mean it's not real," Christian said, rather softly - almost a pitiful mutter under his breath, but still very audible in this empty room. 

"I guess. But the way things are, no one's going to try and use magic, let alone _think_ about trying - it really is kind of non-existent." Esther ended up closing her notebook, pencil and rubber still left somewhere inside it, before proceeding to stand up and stretch her arms - you've seen this enough times to know that she was probably going to go and get herself some coffee, even if she had to brew it herself now. "—Anyway, you guys know how magic is, right? What they say about it?"

You raised an eyebrow, curious - as how Christian did.

"They say that almost anyone's capable of it." The blonde tsked, like it was some sort of insult to her own pride - to hear it and say it. "But that would make us all pretty awful people - since you can never do anything good with it. And I know you both aren't like that at all—" Esther grinned sunnily, as if her ideology was perfectly bulletproof. "—especially you, Chris! You're always mothering us - there's just no way you could be a magic user. You're too nice for it."

Christian simply beamed at her - so wide, that it should be cracking his lips apart, breaking his face into distinct halves. "T- Thanks, Esther. That means a lot to me! ...Really."

.

### iii.

"Kleinschmidt."

The boy snaps to attention, eyes scattering off the dusted tome, blinking with careless thoughts. Your frown simply grows when you notice how they still aren't very focused - still thinking about some distracting matter or the other. It won't do.

"You seem more preoccupied with some other issue than with your studies. What is it?" 

"N-" He blinks some more, looking for excuses - or just words. "Nothing? Nothing much, that is."

He looks uncertain. Cagey, as if what he has in mind isn't something he can share with you - which might say something, when the two of you share the deadliest secret of magic, albeit not mutually, or with any sense of equilibrium. Force isn't the most elegant method to gain anything, but you were desperate. You aren't going to have any fleeting guilt over it.

"I doubt that. Now, speak up." You say, much more firmly, without room for argument.

Your assistant fidgets with his fingers - palms clasped, similar to prayer, but it's mostly for comfort's sake, you assume. It would seem rather sad to seek your own hand in that regard, though. "Well, I just—it's a little dumb, but I thought - Christian's your cousin, right...?"

You nod, giving him a quizzical look. Hesitance in place of his frequent patronising sarcasm—especially when he thinks you're not listening—is highly unusual to see and hear. The boy takes your gestures as confirmation to continue, regardless of your thoughts, fidgeting even more, "You also said anyone can use magic, if they try - but that the ability's more, uh, natural, if it runs in the family—like you said about me and my dad, that you can inherit it, I guess—so..."

"Your point here?" You don't truly know what they're getting at, not when it isn't mentioned, but the most obvious of guesses include... something unpleasant.

"It's stupid, I know, but - what if, possibly, Christian's—I mean, what if he can use magic too? Like me? And he just..." He begins to deflate a little, most of rambling leaving him as he settles down on the thought, becoming a bit calmer and quaint, even if only marginally. "What if he doesn't know about it? Or—worse—what if he already knows? What if—"

" _Enough_." You say it more for your own sake than for anyone else's. "I understand where you are coming from. I will admit, there is a possibility that he has inherited the ability through our shared family lines - and if otherwise, then it is his good luck that he hasn't. Even so, it is highly unlikely that he would be aware of his ability to use magic, if he had it."

"How would you know?" The boy replies a bit too quickly - and with more edge than you usually hear. "Anyone who uses magic would hide it! Heck, even I didn't know I could use it until you— until you did all that stuff!"

You just sigh. "I spent a good deal of my childhood with him. I ought to know the chances of it, at the very least." That doesn't garner a reply, and you almost consider returning back to your work - to follow up with a conclusion to this discussion - but you finally hear the boy mutter, just barely heard—

"What if he's been hiding it since childhood, then?"

"...I pray not, in that case."

.

### iv.

You watch him from the corner of your eye, suddenly wary, looking for depths in a man who has none.

—or so you assume, because Christian always wears his heart on his sleeves, loud and red, and it's so obvious that you'd have to be blind and deaf to not notice it.

But then again, how well do you know him, truly? Your assistant might have rather exaggerated opinions on this, but he is certainly right about one thing - in these times, you have to carry your magic to your grave, if you can. And seeing as how your cousin is still here, standing and breathing, laughing with his charge without much care—

It might be paranoia. It might just be that.

It has to be that, or otherwise, Christian would have to be a pierrot beyond remarkability, to hide a secret like this - it's a saddening, worrisome thought.

(You've already decided on one thing, however - that, since you can't hold faith to one possibility or the other, even after all this searching, you can't say you know your cousin as well as you thought you did.)


End file.
